Lost And Found
by damoisella
Summary: Sequel to 'Tabula Rasa' see below. Life doesn’t hold just one hurdle, but many. Even after getting over the first one, how many will it take to reach the finishing line?


Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be.

Author's Notes: I felt that there should be some sort of sequel to 'Tabula Rasa' (http/ so here it is. Highly recommended to read that first, unless you'd rather be oblivious to what the hell is going on. ;) Thank you all so very much for the reviews – it is truly appreciated.

So, where we left off: After nine years apart, Evan and Susie find themselves reunited at a Melbourne police conference. Things between them take a rocky turn, and Susie's current boyfriend is killed. After a car accident, the pair make up once more, but only for Evan to reveal he'd been offered a prominent position in Sydney.

Summary: Life doesn't hold just one hurdle, but many. Even after getting over the first one, how many will it take to reach the finishing line?

**Lost and Found**

Susie hovered around the vast terminal foyer, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu. Yet this time there was no anxiety eating at her insides, only a feeling of eagerness and a tad of impatience. She checked her watch – only a few more minutes now.

Sure, it had only been a few weeks, but she couldn't shake the keyed up feelings that made her feel like a schoolgirl again. In hindsight, she didn't know how she had managed nine years without him there.

Evan had called her the very same night he had left for Sydney, a move she was somewhat surprised of, but was gratified nonetheless. He had told her that it was only because her inked number would rub off his hand before long, but he could throw his excuses as fast as they would come: it didn't make a difference to her.

And so, weeks later, she'd done a bit of investigating of her own (at least that detective course had been useful in some way, she thought) and found out what flight he was on to get back.

Which was why she was standing back here, the domestic terminal in Melbourne's airport, and doing a whole lot more waiting for him.

The passengers began to file out through the doorway: business people who immediately headed for the taxi stand; parents tugging at both luggage and stray children; others who were met by waiting relatives, enveloped in hugs and greetings. After what seemed like an endless amount of time, someone very familiar emerged, looking nonchalant and quite unaware of anyone around him.

Susie waved her fingertips at him, an impish glint in her eye. When he saw her, Evan looked caught out for a moment, but then composed himself and strode over.

"What are you doing here?"

"Thought I'd surprise you," she shrugged offhandedly, the glint not yet fading. "Again."

"Well, you got that right," he grinned, looking pleased nevertheless as he put his bag down and opened his arms. She stepped into them, grinning herself.

"So what's the verdict?" she asked, freeing herself after a moment.

"Too big," he said in a flat, sombre tone.

"Oh yeah, and I've heard the pollution's pretty bad up there too," she agreed.

"Too many tourists."

"Housing's more expensive."

"Too hilly."

"The water's not as clean."

"Then I suppose it's a good thing I'm not staying there," he said simply.

"You're not?" Susie's eyes widened. "Why the hell not?"

He hesitated, and she retaliated with a sharp glare. "Jonesy, what?"

"Well... I didn't exactly tell you everything before. I got another offer," he continued quickly, seeing her mouth open in protest. "To Keilor Downs."

She gaped. "Keilor? You got an offer at Keilor?" That was only a matter of minutes from her own station, she calculated numbly.

"So what do you think?" he questioned, almost laughing at her expression.

There was a pause, and she finally frowned. "Evan Jones, I can't believe you rejected Sydney Homicide for Keilor Downs."

The full name treatment – she must be serious. "Yeah, sometimes I have to wonder too," he replied dryly. "Well?"

"To finally get you out of country policing – I think that's bloody fantastic!" she exclaimed, not willing to betray how thrilled for him she actually was. Furthermore, it meant he was going to stay in Melbourne – which could only be a positive thing.

"Glad you think so," Evan replied, and he meant it: her nod of approval meant the world to him. "You know, it's gonna be a change and all that; starting at a new station, deciphering hook turns -" she grinned, "- finding somewhere to live..."

Her grin faded into a frown. "Oh, God."

"What?"

"Do you know the state of the housing market right now?" she asked, then shook her head. "Obviously not. It's gonna take you weeks to find something."

"Weeks?" Evan repeated incredulously. "I start in a week, what am I meant to do until then?"

She looked dubious for a moment, and then shrugged. "Well, you could camp out on my couch, if you wanted."

"Don't be stupid, Suse – as if I'd want to get in your way."

"No, seriously – I wouldn't offer it if it wasn't fine," she pointed out. "I'm gonna be at work most of the time anyway, so it won't make a difference."

"Really?" He looked hopeful.

"Sure." She shrugged again, evidently nonchalant. "It just means my house will now get a chance to be cleaned during the day."

"What do I look like to you, a cleaning lady?" he said sarcastically, although privately he was extremely grateful with the offer.

"Isn't that a bit politically incorrect?" she shot back accusingly, but then had a change of heart. "Nah, I was joking. But yeah, just until you get settled down a bit and all that. If you want."

"You're a real gem, Suse," he praised sincerely, and her heart warmed to the core.

---

"Just remember, I am doing this as a favour to you," Susie pointed out as she put his bag in the hallway.

"So in other words, break anything and I'm out on the street," Evan chimed promptly.

"Hopefully we won't have to go to those extremes," she replied amusedly. "Want a beer?" she threw back, heading for the kitchen.

"You're speaking my language," he called back. Somewhat gingerly, he sat himself down on the couch and looked around him. The place, although on the small side, was dotted with pieces that screamed out 'Susie'. A few ornaments of the artistic sort; photographs of her wedding, graduation from the academy, and her parents and brothers; a couple of abstract paintings that he squinted at, not having a clue what they actually depicted. It was fascinating, if not a bit daunting, to have her most personal side at his fingertips, easily open to scrutiny. However, feeling somewhat guilty for taking up her private space, Evan vowed that he would make his existence as small and unnoticeable as possible, so as to make her routine relatively undisturbed.

"Like the artwork?" she remarked, coming back into the living room, two bottles in hand.

"Er... yeah," he stumbled over his words, caught out.

She smiled, handing him a drink. "They're by one of my brothers, who's an interior designer by day and a wannabe artist by night."

"Right," he nodded, still struggling to make a coherent sentence.

"You're not meant to actually understand them," she added, seeing his predicament. She sat at the other end of the couch, legs curled up underneath her and leaning on the armrest, looking wonderfully relaxed.

"Good, because I wouldn't have bloody clue," he confessed, glad he wasn't the only one. "I didn't know you were artistic."

"I'm not, not really – but my grandfather was a painter, so I grew up with it." Susie shrugged, looking around the room. "I suppose I can't help but keep it up."

"And here I was thinking that you were just about sport," he said teasingly, also having spotted some childhood trophies sitting on a shelf.

"Those old things," she snorted derisively, swigging her beer. "Nothing to speak of."

"No, I think they're great," he countered. "At least you've got something to show off."

"After nine years, you only want to look at the sports trophies I got when I was a kid?" she questioned rhetorically. "You know, if you had told me a year ago that I'd be talking to you over a beer again, I would've been asking what you'd been smoking," she added, almost wistful.

"It's pretty strange how things turned out, eh?" he agreed. "Not bad," he was quick to add, "just unexpected."

"What did you first think, then?" Susie asked curiously, turning to face him, her knees bent up to her chest. She leaned her back on the armrest and shot him a quizzical look.

"What, you mean when we met again?"

"Mmm."

"That you hadn't changed a bit," he replied simply. "You're still the same person, Suse, and I really like that."

"Y'reckon?" She ducked her head slightly, somewhat embarrassed but glad nonetheless. "Except for the wrinkles, of course."

"What wrinkles?"

"Oh, good," she laughed.

"Hey, at least you're not going grey yet," he pointed out knowingly.

She frowned. "Don't tell me you are!"

He adopted a grave expression. "One. Just one, I found it the other day."

"Oh, give me a look," she replied exasperatingly, sitting up on her knees and looking at crown of his head. "What are you talking about?"

"You can't see it?"

"Nope. I think you're being paranoid."

"Huh," he snorted, not giving a straight answer. If he agreed, she'd win; if he lost, then it just meant he was getting older. Neither of which he favoured.

"Well, I couldn't believe you'd been promoted above a senior connie," Susie said, tactfully changing the subject somewhat as she sat back against the armrest.

"Hey!" He looked injured.

She grinned, swigging at her drink. "Remember the time you were shitting yourself when you thought you didn't get promoted above constable and I did?"

"I wasn't shitting myself, as you so eloquently say," Evan said defensively. "I was just... a bit anxious."

"Yeah, right." Her grin grew just that little bit broader, enough to make him mildly irate in defence. "Not to mention all the times I beat you at pool."

"If you had ever played darts, I swear..." he muttered under his breath.

"That's why I never did."

A moment later she gave an involuntary yawn.

Evan checked his watch. "Look, you've got work tomorrow, so if you wanted to -"

"Crash, yeah, I think I might," she agreed, only just realising how weary she actually was. She stretched her arms behind her and stood up. "The Saints are playing the Eagles tonight if you wanted to watch it," she offered, heading for the hallway.

"With the volume turned down?" he teased as she re-entered, a few sheets, blankets and pillows in her arms.

"The TV's alright, it's your volume I'm concerned about," she retorted. "Right, so here's some sheets so we -"

"Don't worry about them, Suse, I'll do it," he cut in, taking them from her. She looked dubious.

"You sure?"

"Despite what you may think, I'm somewhat capable," he said wryly. "It's fine. Go – get some sleep."

"Alright," she relented. "Sleep well, then."

"I'm sure I will," he assured, still noticing her slightly worried expression. "Oh, and Suse?"

"Yeah?" She turned back, already half way out the door.

"Thanks for this. You didn't have to, y'know."

"I know," she answered, "But whatever I can to make life easier."

As Evan shuffled down the couch and made himself comfortable, it felt incredibly good to be there and with the knowledge she was only seconds away.

Unbeknownst to him, Susie was having similar thoughts of her own.

---

There were a few soft noises of someone padding around, and Evan stirred from his sleep. He opened his eyes, taking in the sight of Susie's living room whilst squinting in the morning sunlight.

"Suse?"

"Oh, hey," she greeted from over where her adjoining kitchen was. "Sorry, I tried being quiet."

"S'okay." He sat up, rubbing at his eyes.

"Not too uncomfortable?"

"Not at all," he answered truthfully. For a couch, it sure had been easy to sleep on. He stood up and smiled to himself, getting a proper look at her. Her blonde hair was slightly tousled, her track pants baggy, but she looked the most natural that he had ever seen her. So this was the real Susie Raynor, he thought, and the sight was rather endearing.

"What?" she frowned, noticing his stare.

"Nothin'," he said quickly, looking away. It wasn't a good look to get caught out so soon.

"Coffee?"

"Ta," he accepted gratefully, heading over to the kitchen to help.

"Toast okay by you?" she asked, getting the bread out.

"Sure. What do you want me to do?"

"Ah, just sit and look pretty, for starters," Susie teased.

He gave a mock glare. "I don't do 'pretty'. Especially when I've just woken up."

"Oh, and there I was, thinking that perhaps you were coming around."

"Are you like this every morning?" he demanded indignantly, hands on hips. She chuckled at the sight.

"Only the ones when I have overnight guests."

Evan couldn't come up with a suitable enough comeback, and settled for shooting her a dirty look in retaliation. She laughed inwardly.

"So when are you due into work?" he asked, promptly changing the topic of conversation.

"Eight-thirty," she replied, retrieving the toast and putting it onto two plates. "Why? You want to get rid of me?"

"How did you guess?" he responses bleakly, accepting the food she held out.

"Yeah, well, your wish will be my command soon enough," she replied dryly, for once not too thrilled by the prospect of the office.

---

"Help yourself to food and all that," Susie said half an hour later, rather distractedly as she rushed around the house, trying to find her keys and put on her jacket at the same time. "Oh, and don't start rummaging around in my room, because I'll know about it."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Evan replied, and he meant it whole-heartedly. There were still solid barriers in place, and he wasn't about to climb over them.

"Right, and I'll be home about sixish unless there's a call out. Or one of the constables has an accident, or -"

"Oi, Suse, remember I'm a cop too," he interrupted loudly. She paused.

"Right, sorry. Oh, by the way, have you seen my -"

"Keys?" He plucked them out from between the couch cushions as though to find them there was completely normal.

"Yeah, ta," she muttered grudgingly.

"Have a good day," he called out cheerfully as she left him alone in the house. Susie shook her head in a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

---

She rummaged around in her desk drawer with a look of impatience on her face. Eventually finding the proverbial post-it notes, Susie ripped one off and stuck it firmly to the brochure sitting open on her desk.

"Hey Sarge, whatcha lookin' at?" The chirpy voice of one of the senior constables became known to her.

"Finished dealing with the search warrant, then?" Susie asked instead, dodging the question.

"All done," the young woman grinned, leaning forwards to peer at the brochure. "Doing some house-hunting, eh?"

"So to speak," Susie replied nonchalantly. "Did you want me for something?"

"I like that one," the senior constable continued as though she hadn't heard, pointing to a picture of a rather expensive-looking house.

"Mmm, sensational," Susie said dryly, barely glancing at it. "Can you do a follow up call to VIP Security and see if they've finished doing their debriefs? Please," she implored sharply.

The senior constable looked reluctant to go, but finally did as she was told. Susie promptly closed the glossy paper and shoved it in a drawer, underneath some files.

Some things just had to wait.

---

When she arrived home that evening, the house was silent. "Jonesy?" she called, dumping her things down on the glass-topped entry table by the door. Strange, the light was on already. Maybe he popped out quickly, she thought as she headed for the fridge in search of something to eat, mentally acknowledging the fact that it was still too early for dinner.

She jerked open the refrigerator door, only to frown. When was the last time she'd done the shopping? Too long ago, she thought ruefully, but then cast her mind back to remember if she had bought any lettuce. She swore she couldn't remember getting any.

"Is it growing horns or something?"

Evan's voice from the doorway startled her out of her reverie. "What?"

He gave her a look of compassion, his hair slightly damp, courtesy of the shower from which he had just emerged. "The fridge. You're staring at it."

"Yeah, well, I'm beginning to wonder if it's not growing other things," Susie replied flatly, reaching for the innocent lettuce head and holding it up. "Have I always had this?"

"Ah." Suddenly he began to look guilty. "Well, I went out today and got a few things."

"Really?" Maybe he was finally domesticated after all these years, she cogitated in amusement. "Because I was wondering what to do for dinner..." In truth, she really had been. She didn't normally care for such petty things, and she knew he didn't either, but she figured they deserved a bit more than something out of the freezer. A little effort once in a while did no harm.

Luckily for her, he seemed to have thought something similar. "Don't worry about that," he affirmed. "Dinner's on me tonight."

"Ooh, so you finally learnt how to cook?" she teased, replacing the lettuce back on its refrigerator shelf and shutting the door.

"That's original," he threw back, looking wounded. "Maybe I'll retract my offer."

"Sorry," she apologised, fighting hard to keep a straight face. "So what's on the menu?"

"Can't tell you," Evan said mysteriously, a twinkle in his eye.

"Fine then. But thanks." And Susie really was grateful. He didn't have to, but he did it anyway, and the thought was comfortably heart-warming. "I'll set the table then, eh?"

"Go for it," he nodded, turning his back on her and busied himself with the refrigerator. "So how was your day?" he asked, his head buried in the vegetable crisper.

"Oh, the usual," she shrugged, taking the plates and cutlery out. She pushed the thought of the brochure out of her mind – she didn't need to delve too deeply, just yet. "And you?"

"Yeah, same here."

"So going food shopping is 'the usual', then?" she grinned, unable to resist.

"Will you give it a rest?" He began to look mildly annoyed. She laughed inwardly.

"Did you want a hand with anything?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Nah, I'm right. Get out of here once you're done."

"This is my house. I don't have to take orders from you." She turned to face him defiantly, still grinning.

"Suse, is there a reason why you're being difficult?" he demanded, exasperated. "Go," he repeated, giving her a gentle push in direction of the doorway.

"Don't worry, I'm taking a shower," she called once outside, still laughing as she distanced herself to the noises of clutter emerging from her kitchen.

---

"Jonesy," Susie called from her bedroom, a good half an hour later. "Are you done yet?"

"Nearly," he replied from direction of her kitchen.

She pursed her lips as her stomach groaned. As much as she didn't want to admit it, there was a warm, delicious-smelling aroma drifting through her house, and she was growing more impatient by the minute.

He called out for her, and she quickly headed for the kitchen.

"Dinner is served," he announced, looking decidedly proud of himself as he brought the plates over.

"Chicken Parma," she noted with approval. "I'm impressed."

"I'm more than just that 'pretty face', you know."

She chose not to answer, but he didn't expect her to. The line, no matter how thin and blurred, was still drawn and he respected that. If he didn't, there'd be trouble in no time. She was just as stubborn as him, and they both knew it.

"Verdict?" he asked after a tense minute when she began to dig in.

"Keep this up, Jonesy, and you'll be staying here," Susie replied with a grin. "Since when have you been able to cook?"

"Tell you the truth, I can't make much else," he admitted sheepishly.

She laughed outright. "Okay, I can believe that."

"So what about you then, eh?" he retorted defensively. "Then again, you're female, so perhaps -"

"Hey!" she protested quickly.

He had missed this, he realised as a chuckle escaped from his throat. Their banter, even after all these years, was still flowing strong. There few people he could tease without really offending them, and Susie Raynor was one of them. It was almost too familiar.

Meanwhile, upon her face glimmered a smile of her own, her expression clearly thoughtful as she watched him eat.

"What?" he asked sharply, not liking being under scrutiny.

She merely shrugged, unfazed. "You're sitting in my kitchen," she began philosophically, "I mean, doesn't that strike you as strange?"

"We used to eat at the pub all the time," he put in, for once not really understanding what she was on about.

"Yeah, but this isn't Mount Thomas anymore," she explained. "We've gone our separate ways, done different things. We've lived very different lives, y'know."

"Your point being?" He wasn't being insensitive, just plainly curious, and she could accept that.

"Well, I was half-expecting you to be bringing up a herd of little Jonesy's by now," she said half-heartedly, waving a hand.

"What about you, then?" he questioned in return. "Your chance of running after the little kids?"

"I've had my chances," she said quietly, looking down at her half-eaten dinner. Her fork picked at stray pieces of salad scattered about her plate in an absent-minded manner.

Evan pressed his lips together. She'd brought it on herself, he knew, but was smart enough not to push it.

"Yeah, well, we've both been married," he said with a slight wry edge, "We know what type of crap one has to cope with."

"Mmm." She still seemed distant, almost wistful.

"Look, Suse," he sighed, putting a reassuring hand on her forearm, "Things happen. You can't change the past. Just be glad that you're still standing."

She looked up once more, now steadfast. "Yeah," she agreed, her voice now stronger. "And you are too. Both standing, eh?" She gave a brave smile, albeit a small one, but it was a smile nonetheless.

"No doubt about it." Although the thoughts had occurred to him, she had obviously been thinking about the issue a bit more than he had.

Perhaps it was some weird fate thing, she thought bemusedly. They shouldn't be sitting here, after this amount of time separated, without it... well, signifying something or other. Maybe the powers that be were trying to reason with her.

And while he was staying under her roof, Susie decided, there was still a barrier; one that hadn't diminished over close to a decade. After he had settled down in Melbourne – in his own place – she'd think about her options and where she stood. But for now, just let things be. Definitely the best way to go.

"Still," she murmured, "You're welcome to come over and cook for me more often."

"You'll get mighty sick of Chicken Parmagiana," he warned, relieved that her thoughts were settling back into relative normality.

"Might just have to educate you, then."

"What, teach me? Yeah, righto." The sudden ringing of a mobile interrupted them, and Evan looked guilty.

"Go on," Susie urged, knowing that he was debating whether to ignore it or not.

"Sorry." Tugging the phone out of his pocket, he answered it. "Jones. Yeah, I am... what? When?... but he's alright? Okay, thank you." He disconnected the call, his face turning a sudden shade of white.

Susie furrowed her brow. "Jonesy? What?"

"My dad," he replied faintly, finding it hard to comprehend. "He's just had a heart attack."

Susie gasped. "But he's alright?"

"They say he's stable." He turned away, looking dismayed. Susie reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze.

"What are you waiting for, then?" she demanded, standing up. "Let's go."

He nodded mutely, but shot the food and plates a worried look.

"Forget about that," she advised warningly. Grabbing her keys (grateful that she knew where they were for once), she dragged him out the front door.

---

Susie gnawed at a fingernail, a subconscious habit that reappeared whenever she was stressed or anxious. Or both, like she was now. The chair she sat on was hard and rocked whenever she shifted her weight, with one of the bolts holding it down to the floor having come loose.

Whenever footsteps came from the end of the hallway, she quickly looked up, only to be disappointed, time and time again. The hospital waiting room was vast, but feeling empty. Lack of a soul, she thought absently. Like too many people came in here, only to never come out again.

For God's sake, Raynor, she snapped at herself. Hold yourself together.

She sighed, leaning her head back against the wall behind her. This waiting was becoming agonising.

Automatically, for what must have been the twelfth time, her head snapped up when the door opened. Yet this time it was Evan, and she stood, her numb legs protesting as she did.

"How is he?" she asked urgently, approaching him.

Evan shrugged, his eyes clouded with worry that he tried not to show. "Still stable. They're trying to keep his blood pressure down – it's sort of touch and go from here."

With a sympathetic look, she gathered him in her arms and held on tight, much like she had all those years ago when Dylan had died. "Have you talked to him?"

She felt him nod against her. "Yeah." Evan pulled away after a minute, determined to keep a strong façade.

"And?"

"Told me to stop worrying and bugger off," he answered with a very faint twinkle of irony in his eye. "You should go in."

Susie was surprised. "Does he know I'm here?"

"Might've mentioned it..."

"Hmm." Susie approached the door tentatively, as though it might attack her. "You sure that's a good idea?"

"Worth a try."

She turned back to face him, seeing his determined expression. "Then sure. Of course I will." With a small, curt nod, she pushed the hallway door open and approached the correct room. She poked her head around the doorframe, not sure what to expect to see.

The ex-Commander was sitting up, however, looking somewhat weak but alert.

"Ah, I was wondering when you'd be coming," he said pleasantly with a thin dry edge, not looking surprised by her entrance in the slightest – as though he was almost waiting for her.

"Sir," she acknowledged with a respectful nod. "I'm glad to hear you're alright."

He shook his head in a disregarding manner. "Enough of the civilities. I get enough of that from everyone else around here." He assessed her with careful, unrelenting eyes. "Well, it's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Yes, it has," she agreed, still standing not completely at ease. Despite him being retired from the police force, he still commanded a high level of respect and would probably always be a domineering figure, bed-ridden or not.

"So, am I incorrect to be calling you Constable Raynor now?" he asked, a hint of a chuckle in his voice.

She grinned; he was human after all. "It's 'sergeant', thank you very much."

"So I thought. If Evan could do it, anyone could." His face turned sombre once more. "He speaks very highly of you."

"I'm glad to hear it," she replied, unable to keep herself from smiling somewhat. "I think very highly of him too, sir."

"Reg," he corrected. "You of all people, Raynor, should get used to it."

"Then you'll have to get used to Susie," she said swiftly, though without a hint of disrespect.

"Then I think we have an agreement," he affirmed, slightly amused. Reg cast his mind back about ten years ago when he had first encountered the woman: defiant as anything, she was not afraid to stand her ground and defend for what she thought was right. Even if it put her in hot water, he remembered. And despite standing against him, he liked her strength and uppermost loyalty to those around her – especially where his eldest son had been concerned.

He hadn't been that unobservant, nor naïve. Not just anyone defended a colleague in the way she had. Finally, a good woman to get his son's toes straight behind the line and settle him down, Reg had thought at the time. But he hadn't seen her since, nor had he heard hardly a whisper about her either. When Evan married Natasha, Susie Raynor was just a mere distant memory.

Reg had been disappointed when his son had divorced from Natasha. He was aware of the statistics and how quickly and easily married couple separated, yet he hadn't thought – or hoped – for his own to follow the trend. In hindsight, he had given Evan a hard slap over the knuckles for it, but call him old-fashioned – divorce wasn't high on the agenda list.

Bringing himself back to reality with a start, he smiled at the blonde sergeant standing in front of him. "Is he standing outside, worrying?" he asked abruptly, jerking his thumb in the direction of which she had come from.

Susie hesitated. Of course Evan was worrying – how could he not? – but she knew Reg Jones would not take any sympathy from him or anyone else.

"Well, I suppose I should be grateful," Reg said with a sigh, as though he could read her mind.

"You're the only family he has left," Susie reasoned carefully. "It's only natural."

"One of us has to go first," Reg said flatly. "Let him wallow a bit, he'll get over it eventually." He caught her taken aback expression. "Susie, Evan and I have a lot of water under the bridges. Leave him be for now."

"Okay." She nodded reluctantly, deciding it wasn't any of her business to interfere. "I should probably leave you to rest."

"Look after yourself, won't you?" he told her pointedly. "You mean more to him than he will ever admit, so see that you keep that way."

She struggled for a response. "How do you – why...?" she stammered, not sure what she was trying to get out.

Reg gave a gentle, knowing smile. "Don't question it, Sergeant. But I know. Do yourself well."

"Thank you," she said quietly with a nod. "Take care."

She left the room without commotion. He was alright, she mused as she re-entered the hallway. Even after all this time.

"Are you going to stay longer?" she questioned Evan when she approached where he was sitting in the waiting room.

"No," he shook his head, then glanced at her. "If that's alright by you?"

"Of course," she agreed warmly.

---

"Sergeant, how's that search warrant coming along?" the superior asked in passing the next morning, glancing at his officer.

Susie's head snapped up as she jerked out of her reverie. "Search warrant, Boss?" she questioned distractedly, then suddenly remembered. "Ah, right. We're still waiting on it."

He wasn't angry, but merely impatient. "Give them a move along. Oakes isn't a mild goose, here. If he's kidnapped the Henry girl, he's already got a good head start."

"I know, Boss," Susie sighed, rubbing at her temple as the senior sergeant proceeded elsewhere.

"You look like you could use another coffee, Sarge," one of her constables piped up.

"Thank you, Chang," Susie said wearily, standing up and heading for the lunch room. Completely on auto-pilot, she proceeded to fill the kettle and gather the milk and sugar. She gave an involuntary yawn, although compressing it as soon as she realised she was doing it. Admittedly, it was difficult staying completely focussed when she'd had as little sleep as she had.

She hadn't been in the mood for sleeping when she and Evan had arrived home from the hospital, already just past eleven o'clock. So she'd opened a bottle of wine and poured them each a glass, a sort of liquid comfort after what he had gone through during the recent hours. A few more glasses had followed that, but she hardly noticed as they talked. In hindsight, and perhaps affected by tiredness, she couldn't actually remember much of what they had delved into, but she'd probably said just the things he'd wanted to hear.

Even after Evan had told (or more like, ordered) her to go to bed – after all, she did have work the next morning – she was still restless, her mind refusing to slow down into unconsciousness. It had been some ungodly hour in the morning when she had finally drifted off, only to be woken by her alarm a seemingly short time later.

Barely at work two hours and she was already on her fourth cup, she noted as she stirred the milk into her coffee. Not looking too promising on the horizon, but what use was that going to be to her?

Sitting back at her desk, her phone began ringing, as someone brought over some forms to be signed. Life wasn't meant to be easy, she reminded herself tiredly, forcing herself to snap back into action for the sake of them all.

---

"Hey Jonesy, just wondering how you were keeping – you're probably doing your own thing, yeah? Anyway, I'll see you later tonight, okay? Bye." Susie hung up her phone with a sigh later in the afternoon. He wasn't at home, but who knew where he was? It wasn't any of her business, anyhow – sure, he might be staying with her, but she wasn't his keeper, and nor did she have any right to think of herself in that way; the exact reason why she didn't bother with his mobile.

Nevertheless, she was worried, no matter how hard she tried to stop it from coming through. He was seemingly normal this morning, but it didn't mean that's what he was actually feeling on the inside. And if he was still the same guy she worked with in Mount Thomas, he could go off on a whim and do something drastic with no reasoning behind it. Susie fervently hoped it wouldn't get to that stage.

Yet the more she'd try to look out for him, the worse it would only get, she knew. He'd only shake her off, and neither of them needed that. Reg Jones was the last member of Evan's family, and it had to be hitting him hard. The most she could do right now was offer the support he needed, and be the best person she could be. He'd do the same to her, without hesitance.

Absently she opened her desk drawer, but upon seeing what was inside, quickly slammed it shut again. No, this wasn't the time, she reminded herself. She had other more important things to be focussing on – not only Reg Jones, but also her work. That's what she was being paid for, and she wasn't about to let her performance slip. She could do better than that.

She'd find a time, Susie decided firmly. When the opportunity was there, but not now.

She could wait.

---

"Constables, let's get a move along, I don't want to hang around here any longer than I have to," Susie yelled, walking through the suburban house, shooting her officers pointed looks as she went. It had turned into a long day now, and she felt more drained than ever.

She smoothed some of her stray hair that had come loose from its ponytail, frustration painted visibly on her face. She hated failing, and she hated to see scums like these get away with crimes.

"Did you find what you came for, Susie?" Andrew Oakes sauntered up to her, hands in pockets and a very smug expression. She wanted to slap the guy, but merely gave him a hostile glare.

"That's Sergeant to you," she said coolly, refusing to let her anger become a shortcoming. "I wouldn't leave town anytime in the near future, either," she added, stepping past him for the front door.

"Oh, I wouldn't," he jeered. "You come knocking on my door, search warrant or not, any time you want to, Sergeant."

She didn't bother with any retaliation, and slammed the front door behind her.

---

The next night...

Susie used her shoulder to push her house's door open whilst haphazardly shuffling through her mail. Finding nothing interesting other than more bills to be paid, she dumped the pile onto the entry table along with her keys and bag. She was surprised to see her house in the semi-darkness, and flicked on the light switch. "Jonesy? You here?"

"Yeah," he called out dully from direction of the couch. Frowning, she went over, switching on more lights as she went.

"You okay?" It was a dumb question, when it was obvious he wasn't. Sitting alone on the couch, he was staring at the wall, almost looking like a sulking kid just waiting to be told off. Yet Susie knew this was more of his brooding than anything.

"Just got the call," he said bleakly as she gingerly sat herself down next to him. "Dad died an hour ago."

Susie gaped, completely stunned. "What? I mean -" she shook her head, trying to wrap her mind around it. "But he was stable, wasn't he?"

"Took a turn for the worse this afternoon," Evan replied flatly. "They couldn't save him."

Susie pressed her lips together apprehensively, not knowing quite what to say. She silently waited for him to continue.

"You know, I always thought about this day," Evan went on, "when I would be the last Jones standing. I just didn't know it would be now."

"No one ever knows," she said quietly.

"Yeah, I suppose they don't." He paused. "But the old man's still gone. He's left me on my own."

"You're not on your own," she corrected gently. He nodded mutely, looking defeated nonetheless. Susie felt a wave of – what? Protectiveness? Sympathy? – and pulled his head down onto her shoulder, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She felt him shake, and swallowed her own tears. She knew the father-son pair had a long history, and that Evan had wanted to strangle the guy on a few occasions, but the formidable man was still a good one.

She remembered how it had been like when Evan's only brother, Dylan, had died. Completely different circumstances, of course, but it was a death all the same. How Evan had gone off on a stubborn rampage to find out what had happened. How Reg refused to let himself weaken. How the two of them had argued, covering their individual grief. Susie had witnessed it once, and didn't want Evan to go through it again.

She herself had her own grief, mere weeks ago with the death of Phil. So she continued to let Evan lean on her, resting her own head on top of his.

"You should get some sleep," she murmured eventually, hating being the wet blanket but knowing she spoke the truth.

"Mmm." Evan sat up, his eyes tainted with anguish, realising she was right. He gathered up the pillows under his head and straightened out on the couch. She stood, watching over him like a mother, before flicking off the light.

"Okay?" she questioned tentatively, not expecting an honest answer.

He shook his head, surprising her. She had thought he would dismiss her, claiming he was alright. Maybe time had taught him to stop pretending, she ruminated. "Suse... did ya – could you -"

"Sure I will," she nodded, understanding what he wanted. He shuffled over, and she lay down next to him as though she was used to this sort of thing happening all the time. It was damn lucky she had a wide couch. Even so, it was a bit of a squeeze, but she didn't mind in the least. His body was warm and seemed to fit her curves to perfection.

"Just sleep, Jonesy," she whispered in the darkness, reaching for his hand.

---

Evan lay there and watched Susie sleep after he woke the next morning. Judging by the dim light filtering through the windows, he guessed it was still rather early, but sleep hadn't come easily during the night.

It was oddly fascinating, watching her sleep. His arm was draped across her waist, her hand still lightly intertwined with his. He had seen so many sides of her over the years, after going through some difficult times in both their lives. Her husband's death, now only a faint memory. Dylan – that too, seeming like a long time ago. All the stupid mistakes he had made – far too many of them. She'd seen more than she had needed to, but she was here again: the same Susie Raynor that he had known so well.

Yet as he watched, he noticed her brow furrow. He suspected that her sleep was not a peaceful one either. But damn, he was lucky she was here, and one day he'd tell her that.

A short time later, she stirred from her slumber, perhaps feeling his eyes on her. She looked up at him, her blue eyes kindly questioning. "You didn't sleep much, huh?" She didn't need an answer, she already knew, but he gave her one nonetheless.

"Nah, guess I didn't."

"I'll put some coffee on, okay?" She began to get up, but he tugged at her hand.

"Thank you, Suse, for... everything." He touched her cheek with the back of his other hand for a moment, his lips not quite forming a smile, but getting close to it.

Susie gave a small smile of her own, one that plainly said she knew already, before finally climbing up from the couch and heading for the kitchen.

---

When she arrived at work, Susie stuffed her bag in her locker with a sigh, throwing her jacket on top in a careless manner. She shouldn't even be here, she had thought to herself, but remembered it was because of Evan's insistence that she was.

"You've got a responsibility out there," he had said upon her offer to call in sick for the day.

"I've got a responsibility at home too," was the retort.

"What are you, my keeper?" She hadn't minded: it showed he was getting his sense of humour back. "I'll be fine, Suse, you just go."

"Okay," she'd accepted reluctantly. "You call me anytime you want..."

"I know. Look, it's only hours we're talking about here, and I'm not bloody fragile."

"No, but you are grieving."

"Susie!"

"Alright!" She'd conceded defeat. "I'll bring back Chinese, we'll switch off for the night, okay? Jonesy?" she had appealed, seeing him almost roll his eyes. She knew he was finding her tutelary attitude frustrating, but if she relented in the slightest, who knew what he could do?

"If it'll make you happy," he'd sighed. She hadn't reminded him of exactly whose idea it had been for her to stay on the couch during the night.

Nor would she bring up the reminder that he only had a few more days until he began his new posting at Keilor. Or the fact that he was yet to find himself a new home. Some things just had a time to be said, and this wasn't it.

So she'd kissed his cheek and sent him an affectionate smile before leaving for work, knowing it was going to be the best she could do for now.

That didn't make her day any easier for her, though.

"Sarge, there was someone for you on the phone earlier this morning," one of the senior constables told her as she sat down at her desk.

"Did they say who it was?" she asked distractedly, not really focussing on the topic at hand.

"He only said it was a pity he missed you, and that he was looking forward to seeing you again."

Couldn't have been Jonesy already, Susie thought to herself. Not only would he know better than to ring so soon after leaving the house, but also it wasn't his style.

She shrugged it off, it could have been anyone. In the meantime, she had more important things to be focussing on.

---

"You sure you really want to, mate?" Evan questioned, his tone none too harsh. "Nah, it's okay by me. Really. If it really means that much, then go for it... Yep. Yeah, no problem. Let me know how it goes."

Evan disconnected the call, throwing his mobile down on the table. He had been surprised at the call from Chief Inspector Miller, once-colleague and old friend of Reg Jones'. It had been years since he had seen the old guy – Evan and his father had tended to keep their work lives fairly separate. All the same, he had known Miller for most of his life, and supposed it was fair enough that the guy wanted to organise Reg's funeral.

It didn't matter to Evan. Sure, he appreciated the heads-up, but when it boiled down to it, he didn't really feel like having to organise such arrangements.

"You knew Dad better than I ever did, anyway," he'd told Miller truthfully.

It was a weight off his shoulders, anyway, as little as he liked to admit it.

Leaves room to deal with the other things, he mused, remembering only too well he started at Keilor in only a few days. That, and also the small hitch in not having found a more permanent place of residency. He knew Susie was aware of it, but hadn't the heart to remind him. It was well-meaning of her, and he appreciated it. If he brought it up she'd only insist on staying as long as he wanted, anyhow.

Should start contributing to the rent, he thought wryly.

He sobered quickly, and decided to get out of the house. No use being cooped up inside all day long – he had never been one of those kinds of people, and nor would he ever be.

---

When she got home in the evening, armed with the takeaway Chinese as promised, Susie was met with a certain silent stillness of her house that had now become vaguely unfamiliar. She was going soft, she thought to herself, despite having lived alone for a few years now.

"Jonesy, you here?" she called, dumping the plastic bag of food down on the kitchen table and switching on the light. There was no answer, although that was what she strongly suspected already.

Fairly unconcerned, she went to the fridge and retrieved a bottle of beer, seeing that there was still a satisfactory supply left. Although, with two people with rather ample consumptions of the drink living under the same roof, the quantity seemed to be diminishing a lot quicker than what she was used to.

Susie debated whether or not she should try and get him on the mobile – after all, the Chinese was going cold – and a yearning glance at the food told her that it was probably a good idea.

Okay, so perhaps the food was a mere excuse, but she shrugged it off as she reached for the phone nonetheless.

It took him a few rings to answer.

"Your Chinese takeaway's getting cold," she said dryly, without so much as a greeting. The background was noisy, with what seemed like a lot of voices. "Hey Jonesy, where are you?"

"Shit," he swore, glancing at his watch. Time has really passed him by. "Hey, Suse, I'm really sorry. I forgot."

His voice, although sounding guilty, seemed to be lighter with less of a load on his shoulders. Normally Susie would have been irritated at the lack of conscientiousness, but due to the circumstances, she only wanted to know what was going on. She knew that she wasn't a babysitter, and just because he was lodging with her didn't mean he wasn't free to live his own life either.

"That's okay," she accepted quickly. "What are you up to?"

"Well, I decided to get out a bit," he confessed, still feeling as though he had been sprung doing something he shouldn't have, "I'm in the city, having a few drinks."

"Oh," was all she said, not disapproving, but rather more surprised.

"But it doesn't matter – I'll come back now -"

She almost laughed. "Jonesy, don't be ridiculous! Stay out there, I was only wondering."

"What, worried about my wellbeing?"

At that point, any disgruntlement or displeasure Susie was feeling evaporated. He was obviously feeling good enough to taunt, and for that, Susie was willing to accept anything.

"Yeah, whatever you think," she retorted. "Listen, do you want me to come over there? We could grab dinner or something. But if you didn't want to -"

"Now you're the one that's being ridiculous," he broke in. "Of course I do. I'll meet you on the corner of Flinders, I passed this Vietnamese on the way."

"Sounds good. It'll take me about an hour..." she warned, remembering she was still in uniform and that at this time of day, getting into the city would be no easy feat.

"I'm patient."

She grinned to herself. "I'm sure. See you then."

---

"So who were you drinking with?" she questioned, putting on a mock-stern expression as they walked down the city street.

"No one you'd know," Evan replied simply. It had done him some good, coming out this afternoon, and he was relieved that Susie had reacted so well. Most wouldn't have.

He wasn't quite at peace yet, but he was certainly further there than he had been in the morning. Enveloping himself in an environment where he could merely watch and mingle mindlessly was a damn good help in some cases. When he had received the call from her, he wasn't annoyed at being interrupted; rather, it was beneficial to not let him get carried away. And Evan was never one to turn down her company, either.

She'd even kept to her one-hour deadline, and still turned up looking fantastic.

"Glad to see you okay, though," she said casually.

"Yeah," he shrugged offhandedly, not wanting to delve into it too deeply. "Sorry about the Chinese."

"Don't worry about it," she insisted. "It's sitting safely in the fridge."

He merely gave a short nod, shooting her a half-reassuring smile. He'd do his best tonight, because neither of them deserved anything less.

They were interrupted by her mobile ringing. Answering it, Susie frowned. "Raynor. Hello?" She waited, but upon hearing no reply, she hung up.

"Who was it?" he asked.

"Probably just a wrong number or a dodgy line," she shrugged, thinking no more of it. "Now," she added as they reached the restaurant, "come on, let's have ourselves a good night."

---

"Sure you're not over the limit?"

Susie shook her head disdainfully as she drove home, hours (and many drinks) later. "You should know better than to ask me that."

"Yeah, true," Evan sighed, looking out the window. "Because then you might have to arrest yourself." His tone was sardonically deadpan but she wasn't deterred.

Well, at least he remembers our profession, she mentally noted. He couldn't be too inebriated.

Still, she was taking no risks and had to almost physically push him into the passenger seat, despite his reluctance.

Upon reaching her house, he immediately foundered onto the couch of which was now considered his own, under some unspoken agreement they'd made. So he'd packed a few under his belt tonight – it wasn't a crime, and God, if there was a night that he needed it, it was tonight. He would possibly pay for it tomorrow – his intoxication immunity had decreased with age – but hell, it was worth it.

"So you're switching off, then?" Susie inquired as she kicked her heels off, also watching him push the pillows to one end of the couch, and pull a blanket on top of himself without bothering to change.

"Mmm, s'pose I should," he muttered, lying down, his hands locked underneath his head. He turned his head to look at her, still standing a few metres away. "Suse? You 'right?"

"Yeah," she replied with an absent-minded sigh. She made her way over and collapsed abjectly on the end of the couch where his feet were, not caring that they were there. Her legs stretched out in front of her with her ankles crossed, and her hands clasped together in her lap; she looked like she'd had a long day.

"Thanks for putting up with my shit today," he said, his tone sombre and making it hard to tell if he was joking or not.

Susie idly looked across the couch at him and gave a small, rueful smile. "I've dealt with a lot more of your shit in the past."

"I don't get it, Suse. Why do you put up with it, then?"

"Because you've had to put up with mine," she retorted good-humorously.

"Yeah, but you had a choice, didn't you? Anyone else would've been long-gone," he muttered, more to himself than to her.

Okay, so perhaps the drink was going to his head, maybe a bit more than it would have years ago. "Of course I wouldn't have backed out on you. Sometimes I have to wonder, Jonesy."

"Wonder what?"

"Wonder where you get these outrageous ideas from," she said with light amusement. "We've always done that, yeah? You look after for my back, I look after for yours."

He gave an incomprehensible sound of agreement, before they lapsed into silence.

"Hey Suse?" he piped up a few minutes later.

"Mmm?"

"Thanks."

She was surprised. "For what?"

"For letting me stay here, you know."

"What was I meant to do?" she said rhetorically, giving his foot a nudge with her elbow. "Let you sleep on the streets?"

"You didn't have to."

"I know I didn't, so just accept it before I change my mind."

He could see her outline in the dark and feel her body weight leaning against his lower legs, and it instantly made him feel better. "You're one in a million, Suse."

She couldn't help but smile at that, no matter how unforeseen the admission may have been. "You're not so bad yourself, you know."

Evan levered himself up into a sitting position, finally able to see her face properly. "My dad really liked you," he told her unexpectantly.

"Well, he had a lot of time to think about it," she replied with a hint of a smile.

"No." He shook his head. "Even when he first met you back in Mount Thomas. He pretty much told me."

"I see."

"He was right, though." Evan reached up and lightly rested his fingertips on her cheek and jawbone. His touch was warm and sent that slightest thrill down her spine, but Susie was somewhat more reluctant.

They'd dealt with – or, more specifically, dodged – the incident of his first conference night in Melbourne when she'd stayed the night in his hotel room: an occasion that seemed like a long time ago now. They both knew it probably shouldn't have happened, and that things were complicated at the time. Especially since Phil's death. And even despite the fact that he'd kissed her at the airport before heading off to Sydney, she still had this inane notion that it didn't mean anything.

Because as much as she adored him, he was still a friend. And with him now posted literally minutes away from her station, things could get way out of hand if she didn't watch herself. They had far too much to lose, in her opinion.

Yet during the past few days when he had stayed, he'd fitted into her life like a glove. Almost a little too comfortably. But what the hell, her mind told her, some things were just made to live out. She was normally impulsive, but her large respect for Evan held her back for once.

The ringing of her telephone eradicated the mood like the flame of a candle. With a deep exhale, both from relief and frustration, she pulled away from Evan's touch and went to answer it.

"Hello?" There was silence on the other end, a dead sort of stillness that unnerved her slightly. "Hello?"

After another moment she put the phone down with confusion.

"Wrong number again, huh?" Evan questioned, still on the couch.

"Yeah," she muttered, not wanting to think about it or him for much longer. She felt lethargic, tiredness overcoming her. "Look, Jonesy, I'm gonna call it a night, okay?"

There was a long pause. "Okay," he eventually replied, his tone downhearted.

"Sleep well," she called softly, retreating to the hallway in direction of her bedroom. He didn't answer as she closed the door behind her.

Who was she kidding, Susie thought grudgingly to herself as she changed into some more suitable clothing. Surely she must have known that if she let him stay, things would get more complicated? Didn't seem to matter at the time, but sure as hell, it was crystal clear now.

Not that she would – or could – kick him out. That wasn't fair; it was going past implausible.

It just scared her, that was all. He'd been as close to a best mate as anyone during her time in Mount Thomas, and he'd found a way back into her life, almost a decade later – was that telling her something? When it came down to it, she didn't think she knew anyone else better.

'Never hold back,' her mother had told her whilst growing up. Susie was sure her mother wasn't talking about topics such as this, but it was something to cling onto nevertheless.

Then again, she thought, Jonesy was still suffering from grief after Reg's death, it wasn't the place.

Time would tell, she decided, sighing into her pillow. It always did, somehow.

---

The next day...

"Something the matter, Suse?" Fiona Jenkins, leading senior constable and something of a friend, sat down on the opposite side of the lunchroom table that Susie was at.

Susie sighed and rested her chin on her palm dejectedly. "Is it that obvious?"

"You haven't seemed yourself for a couple of days now. What's up, hey?" The woman's brow furrowed in a concerned manner. "That cold burg getting to you?"

"No, it's not the burg," Susie shook her head.

"Then?"

"I suppose it's more Oakes and that kidnapping. He's as hard as a diamond. But I'm just stuffed, Fi," she confessed wearily, absently stirring her lukewarm coffee.

"You look like you could use a break."

"Thanks."

"No, I mean it." Fiona paused. "Bloke problems?"

If only it were that simple, Susie thought to herself. "Not as such."

"That one staying at your place," Fiona put in, "is he still there?"

"Yep," Susie said impassively, although it was clear that something along those lines was bugging her in some way. "Still hanging around like a bad smell." Alright, slight exaggeration, but no one was going to know.

"But you two aren't -"

"Nup."

"Oh."

They were interrupted by a constable approaching. "Sarge, there's someone for you on line three."

"Right." Susie stood, pouring the remainder of her coffee down the sink. "I'll catch ya, Fi."

"Sure," the woman responded, watching her leave.

"Sergeant Raynor," Susie said shortly into the phone when she'd reached her desk. Silence. "Anyone there?"

"Know when to give up," spoke a cold, unfamiliar male voice. "Or it'll come to get you."

"To whom am I speaking to?" she snapped, impatient.

Her ear was met with the dial tone, and she slowly hung up the phone receiver.

"Is that also worrying you?" Fiona had come up behind her and was standing with her arms crossed, a severe, questioning expression on her face. When Susie didn't give an answer, the woman continued. "How long have you been getting them?"

"Don't know what you're talking about, Fi," Susie retort, turning away.

"Take it to the Boss."

"No bloody way."

"It can't continue."

"There's nothing to worry about!"

Susie threw her colleague a filthy look, and Fiona walked away with a 'have-it-your-way' shrug.

Susie grimaced and sat down at her desk. There was not an inkling of doubt in her mind that her other anonymous phone calls had been connected, and she knew who it was, too.

Finally, as though she was sick of it all, she stalked off in direction of her senior sergeant's office.

"Boss?"

"Yes, Raynor?"

Susie closed the door carefully behind her, remaining standing. "I've been receiving a number of phone calls the past few days, except no one's been on the other end."

"And?" Her superior took off his glasses and looked up at his visibly frustrated sergeant, who he held much respect for.

"Just now I received another, saying that I had to give up, presumably with one of the cases, or 'it'll come and get me'."

"'Come and get you'?" Her boss raised an eyebrow. "And do you know who is responsible?"

"Andrew Oakes, Boss. We're still suspecting him of kidnapping Bianca Henry."

"I see. And do you have any proof of this?"

Susie's mouth was held in a straight, firm line that gave him the desired answer.

"Sergeant," he sighed, "You know as well as I do that if you have no proof you can't bring him in."

Susie pursed her lips; she knew very well.

"I mean, we could resort to tracing all your calls -"

"No," she interjected quickly. She wasn't about to give up her private details and life just to give Oakes some satisfaction. He'd probably be using payphones, anyway, or a mobile on the run, leaving traces virtually useless.

"Then I can't help you," the senior sergeant said emphatically.

"I'm not asking for you help, Boss," Susie told him. "I'm just letting you know. Thanks anyway."

She left the office, still looking as displeased as she had to begin with.

---

Susie sat cross-legged on her couch, the case files spread out on her knees and a bowl of corn chips sitting next to her. She absently flipped through the pages for about the third time, not really reading the information they contained, but rather just thinking.

It was Andrew Oakes responsible for the phone calls, she knew. She couldn't explain why, but if her instincts had ever been right, this was the time.

But there was nothing in the case files that she could find to support her theory – at least, nothing that the detectives' had included. She'd have to ask them tomorrow, she thought. Oakes was smart enough, though – it wasn't easy to get a hold of her mobile number, but it could be done.

The house was unusually quiet – Evan had said this morning that he wouldn't be home till later, and she quickly accepted that. She wasn't sure if it was because he started his new position soon, or because things were a bit tense between them – or both, for that matter. Perhaps he just wanted to get out of the house, or there were some friends to catch up with. He lived his own life, too.

Susie felt somewhat guilty for brushing him off the night before, but in all honesty, she wasn't sure what she was prepared for. His ego might have been a bit bruised, but it for wasn't the first time. And it was certainly not the first time they'd got that bit closer, before something had interrupted them. But she wasn't about to go around and mope on his behalf, either.

Realising with a certain amount of disgust that she'd already eaten most of chips, she unfolded herself from the couch and took the bowl into the kitchen, still deep in thought.

She jerked open the fridge door, seeing that a majority of the Chinese takeaway she had bought the night before had already been consumed – bloody insatiable, he was – she decided she'd actually cook something for once. This diet of takeaway (and not forgetting the Chicken Parmagiana) was starting to grate on her.

Still, there wasn't much for her to use, ingredient-wise. Checking her watch, she abandoned the files on the couch and left for the shops.

---

Evan arrived home to an empty house. He noticed the open files and figured Susie must have already arrived home – although it looked like she had gone again. Unconcerned, he shoved the files together into a neat pile and put it on the coffee table before sitting down and reaching for the remote.

Five minutes later, he heard a knock at the door. Frowning curiously – it couldn't be Susie, unless she forgot her keys – he went to answer it.

"Is Susie home?" The man, about mid-thirties, stood casually, craning his neck slightly around the doorway.

"No, she's not," Evan answered. "What did you want her for?"

"Susie and I are old friends," the man replied with a smirk that made Evan distrust him.

"Right. Well, I'll let her know you dropped by."

"And you are?" the man questioned, scrutinising him rather thoroughly.

"I'm an old friend too," Evan said sardonically, glaring at the man, clearly wanting him to leave. He didn't know who this guy was, but he didn't like the look of him at all. He doubted he was an 'old friend' of Susie's – surely she had better taste? "So was there something else...?"

"Not really, no," the man said, beginning to turn away.

Whatever happened next became a blur: before he knew what was happening, Evan saw the man turn around and throw a punch in his direction. Perhaps it was his general tiredness, perhaps it was the complete unexpectedness of the situation, but Evan's reflexes weren't quite as sharp as they normally were.

Still, he'd been in fights before. Ignoring the throbbing in his brow, he reached his fist out in the man's direction, but missing. The man used that to his advantage and pushed Evan back with a hard shove, causing Evan to overbalance backwards. He tripped over, crashing backwards into the small glass entry table by the door. The table shattered, as Evan fell broke through the surface like it was water.

He lay still, his eyes closed. Satisfied he was out of it, Andrew Oakes sneered and stepped over him, taking a moment to survey his surrounds.

She had brought the files home, Oakes knew. He'd watched her leave the station, the folders tucked under her arm. She should have been more careful; then again, how was she meant to know he had been there?

He suddenly spotted the incriminating case files sitting in a pile on the coffee table, almost too easy. He thumbed through them quickly – yep, those were the ones, alright.

He was about to leave the house when he shot a quick look at Evan, still on the floor amongst the broken glass. He didn't know who the guy was, nor did he care – but if he didn't get amnesia, he'd be able to identify him.

Oh well, too late now. He'd just have to make sure he had enough time to disappear before the pigs got the chance to catch up to him.

Without another thought, Oakes left the house, slamming the door closed behind him.

---

Susie stuck her key in the front door, only to find it already unlocked.

"Oi, Jonesy, next time lock the door behind -" she began loudly as she walked in, only to stop dead in her footsteps.

Her mouth fell open at the sight of her entry table in pieces, and Evan lying in the middle of the lot.

"Jesus," she exclaimed, dropping the plastic bags she carried on the floor, rushing over and bending down. "Jonesy? Hey, can you hear me?"

Her knees stabbed painfully from the broken glass, but she ignored it as she touched his head, wiping away the trickle of blood running down his cheek with her sleeve. "Jonesy? Come on, talk to me here."

Evan groaned, his eyes not opening. "Suse?" he muttered, barely audible.

"Yeah, I'm here, you're gonna be okay," she assured, her voice sounding a lot more confident than she actually felt. Standing up, she reached for the phone and called an ambulance, before crouching back down. "Just stay still."

"Suse, he came – pushed me -"

"Later," she broke in, holding a gentle hand to his cheek. She lifted his head into her lap to refrain him from any more glass cuts to his head – she knew she would get hell from the ambulance officers for moving him, but couldn't help it – she couldn't let him lie on cut glass like that.

Evan's eyes flickered open, and she smiled. Somehow seeing his hazel irises made everything alright. He was staring intently at her, and she suddenly felt nervous for an unfathomable reason. Without warning, he lifted a hand to her face to pull her down towards him, and for the first time Susie was actually going to go along with it. Life was too short, it appeared, and even more so now with his face centimetres from hers.

"Anyone there?" a commanding voice called out, and Susie's head snapped up, startled.

"Yeah, in here," she answered, her face suddenly flushed. She turned her head to look behind her; two ambulance officers stepped inside, taking in the scene around them.

"Nasty," one remarked, bending down to look at Evan. "You right, mate?"

"He was pushed back into the table," Susie answered, still cradling his head on her lap. "Not by me," she quickly added, although that was fairly obvious.

"What's your name?" the other office asked.

"Evan Jones," Evan replied in a hoarse voice, but giving Susie a meaningful look.

She took the hint. "Call him Jonesy."

"Right, Jonesy, we're just gonna get you up onto the board so we can carry you out," the officer said firmly. Evan began to protest, when the officer gave him a sharp look. "Sorry, mate, but we have to."

"I'll follow in the car," Susie told them, standing up and brushing the small shards of glass off her jeans.

"Are you injured?"

"I'm fine," she replied, already halfway out the door.

---

Two hours later...

Susie pushed the curtains back and slipped through the opening, pulling them closed behind her. "Two trips to the hospital in less than six weeks," she said shrewdly, crossing her arms with a raised eyebrow. "I'm impressed."

"Easy for you to say," Evan retorted, now sitting up in the hospital bed and looking more put out than injured.

She shook her head. "So, nothing life-threatening?"

"Concussion's the most of it," he replied with a shrug. "They want to keep me in here over night – completely ridiculous, too -"

"Jonesy, you've been pushed through a glass table," she interrupted.

"Yeah, sorry about that," he muttered, looking down.

Susie snorted derisively. "It was just a table. I'm just glad it didn't do you more damage." She sat down on the chair by his bedside. "I spoke to my boss," she added, "he wants you to give a statement tomorrow."

"Sure." Evan nodded, not giving it much thought.

"Still, do you know who it was?" Susie questioned, having heard nothing about the incident from him, but only the hospital staff.

"Male, mid-thirties, short brown hair, about one-eighty centimetres..." Evan said, as though he had rehearsed it. "He had a mole next to his nose -"

Susie nodded, confirming her suspicions. "Andrew Oakes. That's what I told 'em, they're onto him now."

"Oakes? Isn't he the one you were telling me kidnapped that kid?"

"Yeah, he's got it in for me, too."

"The phone calls," Evan realised, also nodding, then suddenly grew concerned. "Hey Suse, shouldn't that mean that you are -"

"They're watching my place now, although I doubt he'll come back," she answered. "He took his case's files, the ones I brought home. I reckon that's what he was after more than anything. He's probably halfway to Brisbane by now."

"Still, you look after yourself, okay?" he requested with no room for compromise.

Susie gave a crooked smile. "Worried about my wellbeing now, Jonesy?"

"I'm serious."

She nodded. "Yeah, I know you are. Thanks, but I'll be fine." Suddenly brightening with a thought, she gave his hand a squeeze and stood up. "I'll come back later, alright?"

She had a few phone calls to make.

---

The next day...

"That Fiona Jenkins," Evan said thoughtfully as he stirred his coffee, seated in the lunch room of the Broadmeadows Police Station. "She ain't half-bad, is she?" Upon Susie's request, the female leading senior constable had taken his statement regarding the previous day's assault.

Susie shrugged nonchalantly. "Nah, she's not bad at all."

Evan shot her a sideways look. "Jealous?" he grinned.

"Should I be?"

Checkmate. Hell, she always gave a good comeback.

His silence seemed to speak volumes, however. Susie bit back her laugh and chose to sip her coffee instead.

"So when are you off, then?" he questioned, hastily changing the subject.

"Three," she replied, glancing at her watch. "You can head on home, if you like. The doctor said to take it easy, remember." It occurred to her that it felt so normal saying it, as though it was their home, not hers. Damn, he'd gotten to her, she thought.

Evan checked his own watch and nodded, draining his coffee. "Yeah, I might then, eh? Not much for me to do around a cop shop for a couple of hours." The irony struck them both.

"Sure," she replied. "I'll sign you out." They exited the room and proceeded out to the front foyer, when Susie was stopped.

"Sarge," a constable told her, "They've traced Oakes' car on the freeway turn-off, they're getting him now."

The constable, sensing he'd interrupted something, hurriedly scuttled off out of sight.

The two sergeants exchanged a look.

"Well, so much for Oakes being smart," Susie shrugged.

"Yeah, well, I'd be grateful for it," Evan replied, grabbing the clipboard from her hands. He scribbled his signature on the sign-out form and put it down. "I'll see you this arvo then?"

"Yeah," Susie said absently, suddenly deep in thought. He shrugged to himself and left.

---

Susie pulled up in front of her house, already changed out of her uniform. Remaining in the car, she honked the car horn several times. A minute later, Evan looked out the window, surprised to find her to be there.

She jerked her head to the passenger seat next to her meaningfully, and he disappeared from view, only to turn up at her front door a moment afterwards.

She wound down her window, grinning at his bewildered expression.

"What're you up to, Suse?" he demanded from the doorstep, impatient as always.

"Get in," she called out instead.

"The reason being...?"

"Got something to show ya."

Evan looked hesitant, but must have realised that she was being serious. Reluctantly, he closed the front door behind him and jumped into the passenger side.

"Well?"

"Patience is a virtue, Jonesy."

He felt like a kid again, being taken somewhere as a surprise. To be frank, he didn't like it particularly – this had better be worth it.

"So, everything sorted?" she questioned as she drove.

"Dad's funeral is on Thursday," he replied, still curious but pushing it away for the time being. "Did you want to come?"

"Of course," she answered quickly, giving him a contemptuous glance. Did he honestly think she wasn't going to?

"Righto, then."

Silence.

"So where are we -"

"Shut up, Jonesy."

He was literally biting his tongue. She laughed outright. "This is killing you, isn't it?"

"A bit of an exaggeration," he muttered, staring determinedly out the window.

---

Barely more than five minutes later, Evan looked at the house standing in front of them, an unreadable expression on his face. Susie glanced across at him, somewhat perplexed.

"Well? What do you think?"

"You found this?" he asked, still looking at the house through wide eyes.

"Just did a bit of browsing, you know," she shrugged casually, leaning her weight back on the side of her car. "I thought it suited your needs."

"Well, you definitely know how to keep something quiet," he murmured, to himself more than anything. There was a heavy pause in the air. "The phone calls you've been making," he added, putting two and two together. "Leaving early from the hospital."

"You got me there. Look, if you don't reckon... then that's okay – it was just an option, you know -" Susie began in a rush, suddenly feeling as though she'd stepped into a cold shower.

Evan suddenly grinned, somewhat unexpectantly.

"What?" Susie demanded, now impatient to cover her uncertainty.

"Well, this certainly proves that great minds think alike," he answered cryptically. "Because I've been browsing around the housing markets too, and -"

"Oh, no." She groaned. "Don't tell me that you -"

"Yeah, I looked at this house as well. You said it yourself, there aren't many options on the market at the moment." Nothing was confirmed yet, but at least he had found a potential place to live, so he could get out of her hair at long last.

She absently scuffed a shoe on the front lawn. "Well, at least I know you like it, then," she relented, slightly put out that her so-called surprise was much less of one than she anticipated.

He still looked amused, and a part of Susie wanted to slap him because of it, just to wipe that expression off his face. Seeing her glare, he quickly sobered. "No, seriously," he added in an undertone, "Thanks for showing me. I was having doubts, but I reckon I'll give it a shot, eh?"

"Yeah?" A eyebrow was raised sceptically.

"Well, obviously it's got your seal of approval."

"Jonesy, you don't need my approval," she said, her tone exasperated.

"Well, it's a confirmation." He surveyed her for a moment, trying to detect her mood. She wasn't actually grouchy, no matter what she tried to show. "Come on, let's get a coffee – my shout."

---

It was quiet, but peaceful. The air was clear, with only the rare, but distant, sound of the occasional traffic. The sky wasn't exactly washing sunshine upon the gathering, but no one seemed to mind. Somehow, a bright day would seem inappropriate, as though it was a day to be in high spirits. Instead, they together into furled a light grey; unpredictable and temperamental, rather quickly moving across the sky.

Evan sat with the congregation, half-listening to the speakers, the half lost in his own thoughts. He had held a certain amount of reluctance about coming in the first place, but Susie had been quick to wipe those thoughts away that morning. She'd sensed his lack of enthusiasm, but diminished them without excessive force.

"He'd have wanted you there," she'd told him, and he supposed she was right.

So here he was, sitting in the front row of seating, staring at his father's coffin as though it were a museum piece. It filled Evan with a certain sadness, but at the same time a sort of finality that had been previously lacking.

Chief Inspector Miller, his father's old friend, had planned the entire occasion as promised. He had offered Evan to take the opportunity to make a speech, but Evan had declined. He didn't know what he would have said – some things just couldn't be put into words.

Sometimes he had despised his old man to the point where he had given the words 'verbal defamation' a whole new meaning. The way that Reg had favoured his younger brother over him throughout his childhood; the way that Evan always felt an outsider because he wasn't tied to the rest of the clan by blood. He had left home at seventeen, and it took him a good few years or so to make him wonder if they'd ever be remotely functional again.

Yet the years gone by had seen the Jones' reunite, even if at times their bond was spindly-thin and fragile as anything. Evan wasn't sure if he had loved the guy too many times in his life, but Reg had been his father, and there was something special and irreplaceable about that, even if it wasn't biological. He had learnt that the hard way.

Evan began to drift out along with the rest of the crowd, still lost in his thoughts. A firm hand clapped on his shoulder from behind.

"I was waiting for you to get up and say something."

He turned, surprised. "Alex?"

Alex Kirby gave a debonair smile. "How's it going, mate?"

"Yeah, good," Evan nodded, accepting his old friend's outstretched hand. To his unanswered statement, he added, "Speeches aren't really my thing."

"They never were, were they?" Alex mused.

Evan wasn't quite sure as to what to say. It had been a good six, seven years since he had last seen his old mate and ex-colleague – and that had only been in passing. He wondered why he was here.

"Susie got in touch with me," Alex explained, catching Evan's questioning expression.

"Oh." His face was unreadable.

"I hadn't spoken to her in almost ten years, mate," Alex added meaningfully. "No animosity, eh?"

Evan gave a short laugh, but he wasn't annoyed – much. "Nah," he shook his head as though it was ridiculous. "'Course not."

"Heard you were staying at her place," Alex put in casually.

"Yeah, so?" Evan looked at him, almost daring him to continue. When Alex didn't, he shrugged. "What about you then, eh? What're you up to?"

"Acting Inspector now," Alex said with a grin. "Up in Newcastle."

"You left our state force then?"

"I suppose I did." Alex looked unperturbed, holding up his left hand. "Married, too. Close to eighteen months, got a little one on the way."

"Congrats, mate," Evan clapped him on the back, wondering why he felt that one step behind Alex once more. The bastard hadn't changed, he noticed.

By now, nearly everyone was heading out of the reception's gardens and onto the wake. Alex tugged at Evan's elbow as though there was a conspiracy surrounding them.

"Now, look here, mate," he said in a low tone, "I haven't had much of a chat to Suse, but it seems to me that she's a stayer. Grab onto it, okay? She's a good woman." He gave Evan a light slap on the back. "I'll catch up with you later."

"Yeah, righto," Evan echoed somewhat more distantly, watching his friend catch up to the throng of people. Shaking his head, he raised his hand and tugged at the tie around his neck. Bloody things, he hated wearing them and avoided it when possible. Giving the offending piece of material a feverish yank, he pulled it loose and stuffed it into his pocket, not caring how creased it got. The vicinity was very much empty now, it seemed.

"Oh, and just as I was going to say how charming you looked with a tie," he heard a familiar voice pipe up from behind him.

Susie made her way over, carefully stepping over the damp grass. "I was wondering where you'd disappeared to."

"Just lagged behind, I guess," Evan answered with a regretful grimace. "Sorry. I'm probably not great company around here, just now."

"Everyone else is gone, so you're the best I've got," she countered.

"Hell, thanks," he muttered, although more in good-humour. Without a word, they began to walk along the grass without a clue as to where they were going.

"It was a good service," she said without warning.

"Yeah, it was," Evan agreed. There was a slight pause, before he continued. "Bumped into Alex."

"I thought you might," she nodded, not looking remorseful nor guilty in the slightest. "I asked him to come, for old times' sake."

"Ah, good-o then."

"I hope you didn't mind too much."

"Nah, it was good to see him again."

"Mmm." Another pause. "You don't seriously still feel resentment towards him, do you?"

"What?" Evan exclaimed, possibly a bit too quickly. "Hell, Suse, what do you think I am?"

"Perhaps a bit insecure," she teased in a sugary voice, almost testing his reaction.

"Insecure? Yeah, right." Evan dismissed it with a brisk shake of his head. "Hey, look, thanks for coming."

"Wouldn't have missed it for anything," she replied swiftly. "I mean, considering that I'm -" she stopped abruptly, both in words and in footsteps. "Damn it, Jonesy," she suddenly evinced, rounding upon him, "What exactly is it that we're doing here?" He knew she wasn't referring to their geographical location, but something much more than that.

"I don't think it's as easy as giving a definition," he began slowly.

"Yeah, as if you could define it," she muttered to the ground, then looked up at him again.

He looked at her carefully, tossing up between potential answers. "Well, we have a few options," he said, cutting straight to the point. "I'm at Keilor now, and I'm about to put the settlement in for the house. I'll be out of your hair in a matter of days, and you can see the back of me. Or you could give a bit of time..." He raised an eyebrow quizzically. "Suse?"

"I -" her voice faltered, but she wasn't sure as to what she was going to say anyway. She pursed her lips, a movement that betrayed her indecision.

'Never hold back,' her other had told her, and it was at Reg Jones' funeral that the words had never seemed clearer. Plus, Reg himself had pretty much given his blessing to her. What the hell, Susie thought, sometimes you had to gamble everything.

She stepped up to him and caught his lips with hers, grasping at his shirt collar to pull him closer. He seemed surprised for a split second, before he found his arms creeping around her waist, effectively bringing her body to knock solidly into his. It was fresh, intense and pure, sending a sudden shiver down Susie's spine. Damn, he was good – how did he do this to her? It was an intoxicating sensation, one she could get easily drunk on without much effort.

If he didn't get her answer from this loud and clear, then she wasn't sure there was more she could do. And yet he obviously agreed whole-heartedly, or else she wouldn't be getting the response from him that she was. Words didn't always need to be spoken to get the best answer.

Breathlessly, Susie pulled her head back slightly, yet not moving her arms that had somehow wound themselves around his neck. A coy smile played upon her lips, her blue eyes impishly bright.

"Isn't there a wake we should be going to?" she inquired, mock-innocently.

Evan looked at her for a moment, as though coming to a final decision. "It can wait," he replied, closing the gap between them once more. A minute later, Susie felt an increasing amount of wet drops fall on her face, and couldn't ignore it any longer.

"Jonesy, we've got to get out of this," she laughed, glancing up at the sky as it cracked opened, the rain began to pour faster and more thoroughly. "Come on," she added imploringly, untangling herself from his hold and pulling the both of them in direction of his waiting car.

He flashed a grin at her, following her without protest. It warmed her heart to the core, almost tempting her to forget about the rain there and then and just envelope herself into the mindless bliss that he could provide. But her sensible side won over, and so she settled for intertwining her fingers through his, knowing exactly where her place was.

And even despite the rain that was beginning to soak them both to the skin, life was rather sweet.

finis


End file.
